


Tulips & Thievery

by apoptosis



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, alternative universe, but nothing bad happens, happy fic, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apoptosis/pseuds/apoptosis
Summary: When Bucky catches Steve stealing flowers from his mother's garden, he invites himself along to see who this girl is that Steve is giving the flowers to.





	

Straightening the collar of his over worn shirt, Steve stepped out into the brisk morning fog, squinting against the bleary sunlight. He walked slowly, having no one to hurry for, counting cracks in the pavement to distract from the chill that was seeping steadily under his skin. He stopped, leaning against a faded picket fence as he caught his breath, the air wheezing through his throat from the smallest physical exertion.   
Shutting his eyes and allowing the crisp morning air to filter into his lungs, Steve held himself as still and silent as possible.   
A bird chirping in the tree on his right.   
Freshly mown grass beneath his feet.   
Someone boiling water on a stove in the house across the road.   
And somewhere that familiar scent... Tulips.   
Steve opened his eyes, peering through the fence to spot the bright flowers, nestled just out of his reach between the white slats. _Tulips were her favourite... She said they reminded her of a sunrise. A new day._    
Steve wondered who lived in that house. Did they like the flowers more than Peggy had? Would they miss them if one or two went missing...   
_The'll grow back._  
Steve crouched by the fence, slipping his thin arm between the posts and reaching toward the flowers.   
_Nearly...  Nearly..._  
_Dammit._  
He pulled his arm back out with a sigh, manoeuvring himself into his knees and forcing his arm in a second time. He turned his face away, cheek pressed to the wood as his whole arm disappeared into the fence up to his shoulder.   
Steve could feel the stem between his fingers, tugged it gently, so not the damage the plant, just wanting two or-  
  
A warm hand fixed itself firmly around his wrist and he froze in place, drawing in a shaky breath.   
     "Why are ya stealing my Ma's flowers?" A curious voice called from the other side of the fence, hand not loosening from his arm.   
Steve stayed sheepishly silent, still tightly gripping the three tulips.   
     "Hmm?" A bright blue eye peered though the fence at him, blinking lazily in the sunlight. "Watcha want them flowers for?" The voice asked again, not accusingly, just interested.   
Steve finally found his voice, clearing his throat before speaking.   
     "She loved tulips..." He managed meekly, "and yellow was her favourite colour."   
The hand released Steves arm and he drew it back through the fence, clutching the flowers to his chest. He could hear someone straightening up on the other side and then a pair of eyes was staring down at Steve over the fence.   
     "So they're for a girl? You're stealing my Ma's flowers for some dame?" The voice challengers, eyebrows raised in slight amusement.   
     "She's not just 'some dame' to me." Steve protested, standing up, but still have to look up at the other guy who was evidently far taller than he was. Not that it was uncommon for Steve to be the short one.   
     "Sure she ain't." The voice drawled. "But those ain't just 'some flowers' to me Ma, alright? She loves her garden. Ain't letting any random punk take 'em. Prove to me that your lady is worth these." He folded his arms against the top of the fence, resting his chin on them and staring at Steve challengingly.   
Steve blinked in surprise, looking down at the tulips then back up at their defender.   
     "Fine." He squared his shoulders. “She’s the smartest person I know. In school she was always the top in maths and writing and all that. She could lap any of us boys in a race, and she’d beat you to a pulp without batting an eyelid. She wouldn’t though, not unless there was a good reason for it. She’s true like that, won’t do anything unjustified. Even when she was sick… she’d stick this bright smile on her face and wouldn’t take an ounce of sympathy from anyone.” Steve stared down at the flowers in his hand, twirling them slowly between his fingers and trying not to think about when that smile had finally faded. “Beautiful, too, of course. But so much more than that.”   
There was a low whistle from the other side of the fence.  
     “She sounds like a gem, Ma won’t mind you taking her flowers if they’re going to someone like that.” The guy smiled warmly at Steve, “but I wanna meet her.”   
     “Uh, that, um-“ Steve stumbled over his words, “No, you can’t.”  
     “Aw c’mon, I aint tryna steal your girl or anything, just wanna meet her. Make it a deal hey, if you take the flowers, you gotta introduce me to the dame.” He said smugly. “Oh, look at that, you’ve already taken the flowers.”  
Steve just sighed and turned away, continuing along the pathway with his flowers, staring down at his worn sneakers. A few seconds later, a sturdy pair of boots appeared beside his feet, strolling along casually, and easily keeping up with his pace. Steve looked up and met those bright eyes again as the man smiled down at him. _Don’t smile back, he won’t leave you alone._  
  
Steve smiled back.   
He tried not to, he really did, but despite the morning chill and despite his mood, there was something contagious about the easy happiness that radiated from him.   
     “I’m Bucky,” he said, even though Steve hadn’t asked.  
Steve blinked at him once or twice, oblivious to the hand that was being extended in his direction. Bucky grinned wider.  
     “Ya know, most people would reply with their own name, and even shake my hand, but whatever.” He dropped his hand with a light chuckle, focussing ahead again as they continued walking.  
     “What? Uh- oh… sorry. I’m, uh. Steve.” He focused on the tulips in his hands again, having one job to get done before he could go home and curl up in front of the heater.  
     “Nice to meet ya, Stevie.”  
     “It’s Steve.”  
     “I know, punk.” He grinned again. Steve didn’t see it but he could hear it in his voice. The upward tilt of his lips dragging out that Brooklyn drawl. “So where are ya meeting this doll, hey?  
     “I’m not-“  
     “Fine, fine. Don’t tell me. I’m still coming though, for a few minutes at least. Wanna see if she likes them flowers.”   
  
_Should I tell him?_  
  
  
They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Steve alternating between staring at his shoes, staring at the flowers and _not staring at him._  Bucky wasn’t half as discreet. Steve could feel his eyes on him, watching him quietly as they walked, almost complete strangers, yet somehow comfortable in each others presence.   
     “So,” Bucky started, gazing about nonchalantly as they walked. “Tell me about her. What’s her name? What’s she do? How’d ya meet her?”  
     “Peggy.” Steve replied softly. Her name tasted like ash. He didn’t want to remember any of the other details.  
     “Alright, you don’t wanna talk about her, fine. Tell me about you.” Bucky prompted.  
     “I’m just Steve.” He mumbled.  
     “Nah mate. That Peggy sounds like a real star, wouldn’t settle for ‘just’ anyone.”  
     “I like art. I draw a lot. Guess you could say I’m an inside person.”   
Bucky watched him for a second as they walked quietly onwards.  
     “You steal often?”   
     “What? No! Of course not.” Steve defended, flustered, as Bucky grinned.  
     “Hey no shame, ya gotta do what ya gotta do. I mean personally I’d only steal essentials, you know, things you can’t get by without. Food, medicines, shoes. But if flowers are that important then by all means, petty thievery suits you.”   
     “I don’t usually take things that don’t belong to me. Not unless it’s to give to someone who needs it more than whomever I’m taking it from.” Steve mumbled sheepishly. “Or stealing it back to return it to the rightful owner.”   
     “How honourable,” Bucky smiled, and Steve looked away. _It would be selfish for me to smile on a day like this._ “What kind of things do you draw?”  
     “Still life. People. Animals. Scenes. Whatever’s around. The world’s changing so quickly it’s hard to keep track, but every timeI draw something it’s like I’m preserving it. Saving it for later.” Steve explained.  
     “You ever draw her?” Bucky pressed quietly.  
Steve nodded. _Of course I did. Still do. Almost like she could be immortal in the pages. Never disappear, even when the ink fades._  
  
They passed through the main part of town, Bucky focussing on every girl they passed and giving Steve a questioning glance. Steve grit his teeth and shook his head each time, focussing on the cracked pavement as they continued walking. Eventually, when they’d passed all the potential meeting points, ignored every cafe and park bench, and continued walking out of the main thoroughfare toward the quieter end of town, a silent realisation passed between them.   
  
     “I’m sorry.” Bucky said quietly, slowing down at the cemetery gate.  
     “It’s alright. You can go now, if you want.” Steve brushed past him, opening the gate and continuing along the path on his own.  
After a few moments, Bucky appeared at his side again, in an almost reverent silence, as Steve took a familiar route through the headstones, toward the one he visited most often. He stilled in front of it, willing his lungs to remember how to breathe.  
_Don’t cry, Steve. Not in front of her. Not in front of him._  
     “I miss you, Peg.” He whispered, placing the tulips against the headstone. “Every day.”  
He pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolding it and smoothing out the wrinkles. His most recent drawing of her, smiling at him like he’d done something dumb. He probably had. He placed the drawing by the gravestone, resting a stone on it to stop the wind from blowing it away before straightening up again and stepping back.  
_She deserved so much more._  
A warm hand slipped into his and gave a reassuring squeeze. Steve had almost forgotten that Bucky had followed him. He squeezed the hand back, determined not to cry.   
He dragged in a harsh breath, and turned to Bucky, like he owed him an explanation.  
     “I- I never told her…” he tried, hearing the crack in his voice and stopping. He could feel the shake in his shoulders as tears bit at the corner of his eyes. _Don’t you dare._  “I never got to tell her that I loved her.”  
Strong arms pulled him into a warm embrace.  
     “I’ts okay, Stevie.” Bucky murmured in his ear. “I’m sure she knew."  
  
 

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by the Awful AU's prompt:
> 
> “Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the "girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard"
> 
> http://awful-aus.tumblr.com/post/116941769918/awful-au-196


End file.
